6

Lilith’s POV
When dinner rolled around, a swarm of people descended on my parents’ backyard. They pitched two massive tents, complete with tables and enough food to cater to an entire wedding reception-or a small village. It was overkill, to say the least.
Dad, never one to miss an opportunity, made his rounds and invited half the neighborhood. By the time I realized what was happening, the backyard was packed. My parents, the quiet, unassuming couple I grew up with, had somehow become the stars of the “Ashford brothers” popularity sweepstakes.
The air was thick with congratulations, warm hugs, and an unrelenting avalanche of questions.
“Oh, your mates must be loaded to afford all this!”
“They’re so handsome! Are they models?”
“Are you expecting already?”
“Do you think you’ll have twins?”
I felt trapped, like the walls were closing in around me. Their excitement, their questions-all of it was suffocating. The things they cared about, the things they thought were so important, felt like an affront to everything I valued.
Finally, when I couldn’t take it anymore, I slipped away to my old bedroom. The moment the door shut behind me, I collapsed onto my bed, staring at the familiar ceiling. How many nights had I lain here, dreaming about winning a Pulitzer? How many hours had I poured into perfecting my craft-speech, grammar, everything? Sure, I might curse like a sailor, but I could write circles around anyone, and I knew it.
Was it all for nothing? Years of chasing stories, stakeouts, always being in the right place at the right time. I’d landed front-page scoops for every major edition of the paper. And now? I was expected to trade it all away like it was nothing.
I turned onto my side, a tear slipping down my cheek.
*Come on, at least talk to them,* Rose urged gently in the back of my mind. *It might not be as bad as you think. If they’re going to be Alphas, they’ll have a lot of influence. They could open doors for you.*
“They’ll never let me do what I really want,” I replied bitterly. “They’ll never let me live apart from them.”
I knew I sounded like a brat-petty, ungrateful even. But how could they expect me to give up everything I’d worked so hard for? The twins? They wouldn’t have to change a thing about their lives. If anything, this arrangement simplified theirs. One woman to remember. One body to claim. One person to warm their bed, trip over herself at the sight of their perfect smiles, strong jawlines, and annoyingly perfect blue eyes.
Pricks.
A murmur from the backyard broke through my thoughts. Something had shifted. Curious, I got up and peeked out the window. My stomach dropped as I watched the brothers embrace a couple.
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” I muttered. “They invited their parents.”
I glanced down at my leggings and cursed my lack of foresight. I knew I’d be coming home; I knew my parents would be here. But this? This circus? Not a chance I could’ve predicted it.
Panicked, I locked the door-like that would stop them if they really wanted in-and began rummaging through my closet. Most of it consisted of my mom’s approved wardrobe: dull, shapeless, and skinless. It screamed “single and staying that way.”
*Try the navy blue dress,* Rose suggested eagerly. *It’ll look good with your hair! Straighten it, add a little mascara…*
“Maybe I should just shift and go out there since you’re so excited about this,” I said aloud, sarcasm dripping from every word.
*Oh, yes! Please! I would love that!* Rose squealed in delight.
I dropped onto the bed and wagged a finger at the closet. There was no way I’d let her out, not now. Leaning over, I peeked out the other window, watching the twins introduce their parents to mine.
“I’m gonna be sick,” I groaned, burying my face in my hands.
“Lily? Sweetheart, are you okay?” Aunt Freya’s voice drifted through the door, followed by the sound of her trying the locked knob.
“I’m fine, thanks,” I called out, already pulling the stupid navy dress off its hanger.
It wasn’t ugly, but it wasn’t exactly flattering either. I’d last worn it to a funeral four years ago, and it hung a little loose now-probably because I’d dropped a size since leaving the pack.
*Since you stopped eating like a normal person,* Rose chastised.
“No one likes a paunch,” I muttered under my breath.
“What was that, dear? Punch? I don’t think we have any, but I can check!” Freya called back, her footsteps retreating down the hall.
I shook my head at her simplicity. This pack, for all its warmth, was simple.
*And there’s nothing wrong with that,* Rose insisted. *Simple, sweet, and homey.*
“Sure, and there’ll be none of those qualities at Blood Moon,” I huffed.
*You don’t know that,* Rose shot back with a snarl.
Fine. She had a point.
I dug out an old flat iron and what little makeup I could find. This wasn’t how I’d planned to spend my evening-playing hostess to the Ashford parents-but I didn’t have much choice now.
*They want to show you off,* Rose said, practically glowing. *This is our moment. Let them be proud of us!*
Yeah, right. Like she’d done anything to deserve that pride. The most notable thing she’d accomplished recently was catching a squirrel-one I was convinced was brain-damaged, considering how slow it moved.
Maybe the twins had brain damage too. That would explain so much.
“Tonight at 11,” I muttered to myself. “Local reporter uncovers shocking truth: Are future Alphas victims of football-related head trauma, or do they just need Botox? Stay tuned.”
By the time I slipped the dress on and checked myself in the mirror, I had to admit-I didn’t look half bad. Scratch that, I looked good. And when I looked good, I felt confident.
*You don’t need war paint or fancy hair tricks to be beautiful,* Rose murmured, her tone soft, reassuring.
“Bullshit,” I muttered. This level of hotness didn’t just happen. It took effort. I rarely stayed over at anyone’s place when I dated, and when I did, it was an oversight. Bringing someone home? Never. I needed an escape route. And something told me that kind of privacy-solitude I treasured-was about to become a relic of my past.
*You won’t be alone anymore. We’ll have a whole pack to care for,* Rose chimed in, practically glowing with joy.
I shook my head, eyes drifting down to my bare feet. There was no way sneakers or flip-flops would work with this dress. A quick dig through the closet confirmed my worst suspicion-my sense of fashion must’ve kicked in *after* I left this house.
“Fuck it,” I grumbled, swinging the bedroom door open. I startled Aunt Freya, who nearly dropped the drink she was holding.
“Oh, here’s your lemonade,” she said, handing it to me with a sheepish smile.
Judging by her expression, she’d been standing there for a while. Probably heard half my one-sided argument with Rose. Too wrapped up in pulling myself together, I hadn’t even noticed.
I took a long gulp, then laughed. “You should’ve spiked this, Freya.”
She tilted her head, concern etched across her face. “Dear, are you okay? You can talk to me, you know.”
Her eyes darted to my bare feet, clearly unimpressed. Freya and my mom were cut from the same cloth-prim, proper, and practically allergic to anything bold or brash. Mom had made a small fortune off my high school swear jar. Cussing in her presence was a mortal sin. And between the two of them, I doubted they’d ever touched a drop of alcohol unless it was cooked into a recipe.
“Just ready to get this the hell over with,” I said, linking my arm with hers.
As we wove through the crowd, I tried to suppress the unease simmering in my gut. Normally, I thrived on being prepared, but tonight I was flying blind. No plan, no strategy, no clue what was coming. It made my skin itch, and I knew the mouthy, impatient side of me wasn’t far behind.
*Oh, good! Something new for us to deal with,* Rose giggled in my mind.
It felt unfair, having this constant voice teasing me, knowing there wasn’t a damn thing I could do to silence her without hurting myself.
*Duh, first day as a shifter? Should I grab one of those five dictionaries you own to explain it to you?* Rose teased.
*You’re awfully chatty for someone who’s never shifting again,* I shot back, just as Freya and I made our way through the crowd.
Suddenly, a wave of heat rippled through me.
*Is it hot in here? Do you feel that?* Rose’s voice went still as vivid, uninvited images flashed through my mind.
Last year, I’d covered a story about a she-wolf who’d gone into heat after stumbling upon her mate-for the first time, no less-while he was mid-act with someone else. She’d instantly submitted to him. It was pathetic. One second he was inside someone else, and the next, he was claiming her, right there. And the first girl? She just stood there watching. Yeah, I got a picture of the whole thing.
*You’re one to talk! Now shut up and behave,* Rose snapped, dragging me out of the memory.
“There she is!” Dad called, his voice cutting through the noise. He pushed through the crowd, his expression one of relief.
“She needed a quick pep talk from Aunt Freya,” someone chirped beside me.
I turned, raising an eyebrow at the woman, who beamed like she’d done something worthy of applause.
“Aren’t you going to introduce me, Lily?” she added, giving me an unnecessary nudge with her elbow.
Ah, there it was. Everyone wanted something.
Dad, ever the diplomat, grabbed my other arm, and together we moved toward the twins and their parents. They were deep in conversation with the pack’s Beta and his mate, laughter spilling from their little circle. For a fleeting second, I wondered what was so funny. Then I realized I didn’t actually care.
Maybe this was all a dream. Maybe that beer I’d had at the frat house had been spiked, and I was in a coma. Too much to hope for?
“Hey, beautiful,” Caleb said, his voice drawing me out of my thoughts. “Come meet my mom.”
Before I could respond, Dad handed me off like a package. Caleb reached for my hand, and the moment his fingers touched mine, my body betrayed me. Every ounce of tension melted away.
I glanced over my shoulder at Dad, who now looked like a bundle of nerves. Not exactly the calm, collected man I was used to seeing. Maybe even he was overwhelmed by the Ashfords. I could hardly blame him for that.
Caleb interlocked our fingers, a move so casual yet utterly inescapable. I felt trapped.
*If this is being trapped, where are the handcuffs? Lock me in,* Rose swooned, completely unhelpful.